Chasing the Dragon
by Anime Aficionada
Summary: History always has a way of repeating itself. When Seto faces the decision of leaving what he knows well in order to accept something that's completely alien, he faces several challenges along the way. BlueShipping. Other minor pairings. Chapter 3 Now Up!
1. Prologue

a/n: **I totally own the entirety of the YGO franchise, which is precisely why I am writing this fanfiction - to prove how completely and utterly self-absorbed I am.** :D

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"But," the girl said, almost losing hold of her breath, "I _need_ this."

She bit her lip. So what if she was the epitome of mediocrity, despite her academic, let alone extracurricular abilities? She needn't become a doctor. Graphic designers only came in a few, and one of which would be fortunate enough attaining the position at KaibaCorp.

"No, no, no, NO!"

A palm slammed down on the table.

"I've seen you work bloody well hard these past few years. Thousands of tuition money and good grades will not go to waste!" If otherwise given the situation, this would have almost come as a compliment. "And for what?" she continued, "Pretty billboards and magazine covers?! What the hell were you thinking, Kisara!"

Kisara predicted what was to come next. Cold words, slaps, screams, more cold words. Nothing less of sure, she inwardly cringed, bracing herself for the proceedings of her mother's beatings; verbal or physical, it didn't alter the case.

"Graphic Desginer… out of all the arts…" she shook her head, "Why this? WHY are you _doing _this to me!"

All in a fluid movement, Kisara's mother advanced on her daughter faster than a Blue Eyes striking with its (1) White Lightning. She didn't even bother to protect herself. Her arms twitched furiously, but made no effort to soothe the redness of her cheeks. Her teeth gritted together, nose held high and an adamant glint in her eye, no more than the routine form of her tears threatened to break relentless façade that was plastered across her stone hard features.

"I'm not doing this to anyone," she rejoined, her tone levelled and teeth flaring from underneath their cherry lipped case. "If anything, mother, this involves me, and me only. I see no reason for your concern, and intend for no-one's harm through my decision."

Her mother stood there staring, no longer angered or wide-eyed, nor throwing around whatever came within her arm's radius. "So I adhere to think that I equate to nobody," was all that she said.

A sound of the door banging resounded from the room, as she exited to the kitchen. Peering from behind the corridor, Kisara heard no bangs of the pots and pans, found no clutter of ingredients on the tiles – there was absolutely no indication of even the tiniest form of anger. Returning to her bedroom, a guarded shiver crawled slowly down her spine. Kisara sighed upon her reflection of the night. It had been, by far, the calmest argument she had ever endured…

… and that was precisely what had troubled her.

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Now, a point of importance:

**(1) **There have been some heated discussions over the official name of the Blue Eyes White Dragon's signature attack. So let's clear that up. _White Lightning_ is the name of the attack in the English anime, whereas _Burst Stream of Destruction_ is the one in the Japanese anime. Other variations appear to be the _Horrible Burst Stream_, as fostered in the English subtitles; but as an honest opinion and with all due respect, I simply say that the "White Lightning" attack sounds much better to me when using it in writing fanfiction.

In the end, it is personal preference here, really.


	2. The Domino Theory

**Chapter One – The Domino Theory**  
"_The number on the house is spelled out in letters_!" ~ Homer Simpson (_The Simpsons)  
_Deary me, much like my chapter title, eh? :D

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Greeting the town in an orderly, slowly fluttering fashion, the sun's rays danced in their merry way even to the teeniest, tiniest nook and cranny of every room of the house. They were slowly followed by irregular chunks of cloud scattered onto the morning sky - answering happily to dawn's polite, habitual call.

"Rise and shine," Kisara said to herself, a wry smile forming on her normally placid lips. She recalled the faint memory of her mother saying the exact same thing to her as a young child, seeming like it was a whole other era ago when she'd been greeted to the early morning like that. Sighing with the afterward grunt, groan and heave, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and readied herself for school. A meagre breakfast eaten, and bag fully packed, she prepared a small lunch and hurried off, not wanting to start her first day on a sour note.

"I'm going now," she called behind her, placing a small note on the fridge before she scooted out of the door.

The trip there was uneventful as, well… _ever_. A small apple at hand and school bag slung loosely around her torso, Kisara wasn't at all stressed when walking along the cherry blossom kissed footpath. She was, however, almost at ease with herself.

Several heads turned curiously upon her arrival at the gates of Domino High, some staring intently at the girl's stature, whereas others shook theirs and returned to whatever they were doing, smirking to friends or snickering at her rather 'unnatural' appearance. Luscious brown hair tucked into a small bun behind her head, with small strands of unruly hair splayed across her angular face and the vibrant hue of those blue eyes; her appearance was unparalleled. Unequalled. Incomparable.

She seemed out of the norm… and completely isolated. It was as if she had her own secluded aura floating aimlessly around her – her only companion.

Goosebumps appeared on the pale-complexioned girl. As though thoroughly insecure, her nerves wavered… not so much at ease anymore. It was only until she was seated down in her own little bubble of refuge within the resides of the classroom, that the small, stubborn knot in her stomach agreed to disentangle itself. Her prosterior flopped down happily as she checked on the busy hands, watching them tick away joyously in their own little might.

"Five minutes to spare," she noted to nobody in particular. "Might as well get ready then." Almost than half of what was in her bag was emptied out onto the table. Although bemused at the fact that one period would require so much materials, Kisara's thoughts nervously wondered about the quantity of her homework throughout the duration her school year. It would be surely less than two hours or so; _surely. _Becoming more and more comfortable, and a small chuckle leaving her lips, Kisara was now right at home within her new surroundings…

Or so she thought.

The first period started off with a bang.

Literally.

Some deranged schoolboy decided it would be rather humorous to burst a hole through a few of the sewerage pipes. How had he achieved said task, nobody knew… and nor did anybody want to find out. Of course there were the select few who thought that the kid was a dead-set genius, whereas the more intelligent ones scoffed, undoubtedly begging to differ. The kid, in any way that can be looked at it, was obviously off his rocket.

"Now class," the teacher said as he returned from the principal's office. His temples looked as if they had a work out of their own and the redness of his cheeks indicated that he was in no mood for any misbehaviour. The raucous of the classroom died down instantly, some even quivering behind a book, pretending to read a book in a refined, undisruptive manner. One had theirs up-side-down.

Kisara noted that this was one teacher she should not mess with, at all, by any means.

"I'd like you to meet our new student, Sarah Tatsuo," he introduced, readjusting his glasses while gesturing the class to look in her direction in just one, flowing hand movement. "Students," he addressed, eyeing peculiarly at the three foul-grinned students at the back of the class who seemed just a little too overjoyed of a newcomer and then quickly scanned the remainder of the students before rejoining to what he had prepared to say. "Treat Miss Sarah with as much respect and gratitude as you'd expect for yourself. Mr Kaiba, Motou and Ms Gardener, I'll expect you three to further uphold this rule as you shall be the girl's cohort until she readily accustoms to our school."

After a few short-held groans, he finished with a leer. "Am I not understood, students?"

"We're understood," the class chimed in, in a long group of bobs as the pupils nodded their heads. Kisara, if she'd been in a traditional anime or maybe even the off-chance cartoon, almost felt like sweat-dropping. Observing this one class alone deemed a single thing about the timeslot of Domino High.

It would, inevitably, be one _loooooong _year.

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Trigonometry and Business had been rather tedious. And Spanish… well, there weren't honestly any words to describe it. "_Muy estúpido_," Kisara would full-heartedly comment.

Her last period had been Physical Education, and she'd relented. Exerting energy into physical activity was almost the equivalent to cursing upon the devil itself. It went beyond the standards of human rights itself. Even the act of sinning was beyond compare to this… this… _profanity._ She was, however, relieved that it was only half a period, but found the fact that this subject's compulsoriness a bit too pushy on even her fairly lenient constitutional limits. At least it was a mere thirty five minutes, so only half an hour of activity and then she could race back home – if, after such a long time of exercise, that she wasn't too physically inept to do so, of course.

Not even the seemingly athletic students appeared to have the slightest amount of joy upon entering the gymnasium. Their teacher was an absolute prat, in need of a better word. "Run you jelly legged sissies!", "What? Are you waiting for your mother to kiss your **(1)** boobies?", "Oh, my humblest apologies dear, I'd forgotten how much of a spineless dweeb you are". All these were the more polite versions of the fine, memorable quotes tuned to the vulgarly orchestrated voice of "The Coach", or "Mr. See" as he'd profoundly called himself. Almost all strayed out of the foul-mannered teacher's way, whereas others found it much more amusing to provoke his long streams of cuss words. The one who endured the most, but did not enjoy the brutal analogies of his physical abilities, was none other than Joey Wheeler.

"So called friends you are," he would mutter as his peers 'encouraged' him to assist in the man's teachings.

There was not once where the boy would come home without at least the smallest of bruises. Furthermore, and in an odd form of fortune, the girls were strictly prohibited to demonstrate with the teacher, due to his personally-not-so-ashamed-of-my-sexist-pig-like manner. That, amongst other less significant things, drove Kisara mad. Utterly, utterly mad!

After her first training lesson, she just wanted to run as quickly as she could to her home once she'd finished changing. The stress of school life was a bit much to handle at the moment. When she'd almost finished stuffing her clothes inside the blue polyester bag, Kisara was stopped by a tall, slender figure in front of her.

"Hey," greeted a girl with shoulder-length hair. It was brown, bouncing gracefully along her skin as she gazed down upon Kisara, smiling. "We met earlier, in English, she went on, "I haven't introduced myself to you properly yet, have I?"

Kisara returned with a small inclination of her head, stretching out her palm to seem polite. Placing her hand in Kisara's, the girl clarified herself as, "Téa, Téa Gardener."

"I know," Kisara rejoined, slightly irritated.

"Well, um…" Tea seemed to be unsure of what to do with the situation, uncharacteristically scratching her head. Regarding Kisara's carefully guarded look as somewhat impatient, she abruptly went for her bags. "I've gotta go," Téa informed with a small wave, quickly running off into the distance, as though not wanting to appear too awkward in front of the newcomer.

"Goodbye to you too," Kisara scoffed, fetching for her belongings as well. She walked solitarily for a while before meeting up with an old friend at the gate, and his less important group of acquaintances, as she preferred to call them.

"KISARA!" he screamed, running up to her for an embrace. Kisara found the scream quite unnecessary, as they were perfectly in a close proximity to each other. But, heck, that's her old Joey - always the blind guy towards everything.

"Hey, JoJo," she smiled, feeling the gauche sensation in her mouth. It had been a good six hours or so since she'd felt relatively pleased within her new school environment, and for her smiling felt like a relatively aberrant action to do on such an unpleasant day.

"How've you been? Like school? Our teachers are pretty whack, aren't they?" Kisara simply nodded or shook her head, or said an effortless one-liner before Joey shot off with his next trail of questions. It was only a matter of minutes before the two had departed from the other aforementioned 'acquaintances'. Kisara took no notice of them, but made a mental note to recognise them and their names the next time she saw them. She would have to get used to their presence from now on, which - compared to other abitrary things - seemed like not much a difficult task to accomplish.

"Now I know the place's big, and some dudes are pretty stupid in terms of behaviour-"

This earned an odd look from Kisara.

"But you'll come to like it here," he said with a bit of valour, and after a small huff of a breath, he continued. "So anyways, I do also know a lot of people who would like to meet acquaintance with you, Kisara." The stress he put on the word 'people' troubled her.

"People?" she inquired, her tone implying … _something _of the masculine sort.

Nodding, Joey smirked as he noted her sickened look. "Hey," he pressed on defensively, waving his hands in a protective manner, "they're not all _that _bad." Absolutely out of nowhere, Joey stepped onto a suddenly-materialised podium and struck a less than flattering pose. "And you know I'll step in when I can," he grinned, a bit too valiant.

Rolling her eyes, Kisara decided to change the subject, seeing it fit to be the smartest option. "I've noticed that Reeni's not here?" she stated in mixed tones. Of course, though, her inquisitiveness seemed to imply a questioning for the said observation.

"Gone to our mother's," Joey replied rather grim, no longer smiling at her. His face fell and looked down droopily, as though inspecting his dirt-ridden sneakers. It was at moments like these where Kisara just wanted to come up and hug him – he resembled an astray puppy way too much for her liking – he unlawfully played with her sympathetic emotions.

They walked towards home in silence, not one wanting to continue or re-establish their conversation. Only the crunch of the gravel beneath their leather school shoes provided to be the only noteworthy sound that reverberated throughout that afternoon.

* * *

**(1) **Let us try to be mature here. 'Boobie' can be used for any injury, however big or small. It is also a word for a complete idiot and a part of the female anatomy – which is why, guys, that you sexually-driven ones can enjoy that one, single, teeny weenie sentence, considering that the way it's been written is rather… um… I'll just stop. :L

So now, a BIG, **BIG** shout to all of my reviewers! **THANKYOU SO, SO MUCH! **–huggles all and rewards each a cookie-

And you'll know what to do if you want more of these sweet, sweet delicacies, right?  
**Read & Review, **yo.  
:D


	3. How the Banshee Wails

My dear readers, the sincerest apologies for my absence. I've had to tend to a national Literacy and Numeracy testing program, or otherwise known as the NAPLAN examination – aaah yes, you Aussies out there must be groaning and/or throwing bagfuls of virtual tomatoes at the reminiscent thought, neh? And so, as you wouldn't think I couldn't get any more fortunate, a blasted cold had decided to consume my whole body into near oblivion. So that's rather fun, isn't it? :D

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**Chapter Two – How the Banshee Wails**  
_"The secret of happiness, you see, is not found in seeking more, but in developing the capacity to enjoy less."__ ~ __Socrates (Way of the Peaceful Warrior)_

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Minimalist.

That's always what they've called her, that's what she'd always answer to.

She'd digress, though, not upfront of course, telling to whomever would listen that she was much more than a simple porcelain doll confined in her pedantic, paranoid ways - not a banshee-like wanderer forgotten to most who've known, heard, and or met her – but with her unmistakable blue eyes and divine physique, surely none would ever overlook the girl by mere face value and persona alone?

It comes with great dismay, however, to note that she had been forgotten – a mere ghost to the senior school cohort – that most may shrug or scrunch their nose in confusion at the thought of this "Sarah Tatsuo".

When had she arrived? Was she still attending this school? Or more importantly, who _was _she?

The answer was, unfortunately, that nobody ever really knew.

There were, of course, the select few who did in fact meet acquaintance with the child, however chose not to think about her, or much less speak thereof. Many reasons were behind this. Complete ignorance of many had fathom become the favourite, whereas the other was deemed to be the meagre secrecy, as such was requested by the aforementioned brunette.

"Please Joey," she would plead, "not to anyone – not even Yugi."

With a sideway glance and a meaningful ponder, the scruffy blonde nodded, patting the girl on the curve of her head. He smiled reassuringly, "your secret it is safe with me," as if six words were all that was required to make her feel at ease again. Usually the girl's requirements would have been exceedingly high, though something within, something unknown, trusted the sense behind them. She trusted the sense, however little it may be, behind the boy. She, above all, trusted _him._

Oh, how such a bitch friendship could be.

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_"This means a lot to you." A solemn head inclined towards the paper which sat silently on the ebony dinner table, as if waiting to be answered, written on, and signed off. "Don't do something stupid," he warned, pacing around to pick up the insolent thing, "or you'll regret it for the rest of your life."_

_Kisara stared oddly at her Brooklyn accented friend. The flippant womaniser was now serious, a pained expression distorting his usually cheerful features. _

_"Don't get involved. Don't reveal yourself. Don't become too personal," she recited with a faint smile. "Joey, stop worrying – I get it."_

No, you don't_, he almost felt like blurting out, his loyalty getting to the better of him. "Sure, sure," he dismissed._

_"But seriously –"_

_"I'm going through with this because I love you Kisara. Please, _please_ don't take that for granted." With those words lingering in the air, he turned to the paper and handed it to the girl, pressing it firmly in the holds of her fingers. "Now take that to him and show him who's boss."_

_After another awkward gawking, Kisara nodded and went to thank him. He was much too surreal for her liking. She wanted the weird goofball Joey, not the sombre overprotective freak. If only the animosity between him and her hopefully new boss didn't coagulate, then she would have had a chance of Joey trusting him alone with her. _

_But it did, and she doesn't. _

_What was she to do?_

"Ms. Tatsuo. Eyes to the board at once!"

Her whole body jumped at the enraged sound of her teacher's voice. Two auburn eyes drilled at her forehead, prompting for an explanation.

"I, uh... uhm...?" the words stumbled out of her mouth, trailing off with her in utter confusion as she pondered a feasible excuse.

"Smart response," she seethed. "I hope you are just as intelligent when you report to my room for a lunchtime detention. Tomorrow. Don't be late. "As the woman skidded around on her heels to set a mug of coffee down on her table, Kisara slumped deep into her chair. Things _really _couldn't get any worse!

But of course, the universe _really _did like proving her wrong, didn't it?

"You make it too easy," Joey jabbed her in the ribs, teasingly. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

"'Not _that _bad?' How is it _not _that bad?!"

"Well, you could have been suspended," he pointed out, shocking even the remainder of his friends with the rather sharp response.

"That's only because he's done that enough times to feel immune to its awful power," Téa commented, only to be exposed with another one of Kisara's train of rhetorical questions and complaints. While most were mumbled, said too fast for the average brain to register, or spoken at a frequency so high that even a moth would cringe at it, one was however able to be understood, let alone heard.

"It's bad for my permanent record!" she wailed, throwing her hands in the air. The defeated action caused the others to respond.

_Fiiinally!_

"Like anyone ever cares about them anymore," said Tristan, the cone-headed brunette (as Kisara like to denote him) shoving his thumb toward a group of students who were crowded around the utility closet. What they were doing was seemingly ominous, so no-one bothered to press on the subject.

Yugi scratched his head apprehensively. "But what if we actually _have _them?" he asked, a sudden pang of worry filling his stomach.

"Not sure, but it's probably not wise to act stupidly in par to the fact that we may or may not have them."

Kisara went on to ignoring her "friends". They were _not_ helping! With their random remarks and irrelevant subjects... none of them had helped reassure her – not even Joey's feeble excuse of a condolence. Curses, what was one to do when all they wanted was to go home and curl into their bed like a complete loser, but was stuck at school, leaving their poor, defenceless brain to feed on meaningless trash, of which their teachers so profoundly called some "information"?

She did not like this.

No, not at all!

Fake a sickness. Forcefully throw up. Trip on the toilet floor.

Just anything to get her out of here!

Kisara sighed dejectedly when she realised that the act would be both immature and stupid, in many ways.

She was going to heave on with the day, tackle it, embrace it, run away with it. She was going to walk with her head held high, somewhat literally so, and bear the burdens of a typical schooling day. Yeah! Bring on the useless information, functions and formulas! Bring on the countless cuss words and simultaneous analogies! At Kisara's mercy was the world, was she going to let it control her?

Oh–no–she–was'n't!

She skipped out of the line of friends who were walking abreast to her. Such were exchanging funny looks as the girl disappeared into the clearance, with not even one word of goodbye. They simply shrugged it off, and continued with whatever they were doing before their counselling session with the said brunette. Téa and Yugi were revising their History notes, and Tristan and Joey to their game of solitaire.

The current state of euphoria had led to Kisara acting slightly out of character for even such a gentle soul as herself. She began whistling an unknown tune to nobody in particular, repetitively circling the garden in front of her chemistry classroom. Had not she been so engulfed in overbearing happiness, she would have noticed the pennies flooding behind her footsteps. It was what happened next that had rendered her pleasant mood useless.

"TATSUO!"

The girl whipped around. Instantly her arms sported an array of goosebumps, a gradual increase of perspiration forming on her skin.

"What is the meaning of this, young lady?" Dismissing an afterthought of some sort, the teacher went on. "'_Joy to the World, the Teacher's Dead?_' Understand that this, Miss Sarah, is certainly not exemplary behaviour. I'll have you spend a week with me in hope to clean up your act. I know you'll find much _joy _in doing so."

Kisara watched the shrewd woman readjust her pink glasses, smooth out the folds of the jacket which always seemed much too tight for her, and followed her heel as she walked off into the distance. "Oh piffles. The world really is against me," she grumbled, shaking her head at the thought.

"As said previously, you make it too easy, Miss Tatsuo."

Kisara made an attempt to respond to the boy's comment, but stopped just as soon as she'd realised who had said it. The weight of his voice was unmistakable, and the smouldering, icy glare stopped anyone at first glance. Those sapphires could trail, maul, and pin one's stare down until they responded. Her spine shuddered at the thought of her almost insulting the boy. No. Man... Teenager? She couldn't decide between the three; he seemed much to mature to even be considered a teenager, but his looks... his... oh so good looks...

She made a mental note to slap herself if she thought like that ever again.

He was her boss.

She was his employee.

Nothing could ever happen between them.

The universe, _really_, was out to get her.

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**Well, that _was _fun. **:D

Sorry for a pretty much filler chapter like thingy. (Much too descriptive, I know. :P) But I assure you that the next chapter will be filled with more action, suspense and drama. So, to stop myself from sounding like a bloody infomercial,

**Read and Review, **yo.  
;3

**[edit]** _Due to exams and such, my updates will become hindered for a long period of time. Nonetheless, I will update - just that it's simply an indefinite matter as to when I shall do so._


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